


i can take your body out like a drive thru

by Summer_Pond



Series: Pining Chronicles-Reloaded [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Australian Slang, Derogatory Language, Established Shiro/Lance, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, McDonald's, Multi, Unresolved Sexual Tension, bogan culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 20:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13531599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summer_Pond/pseuds/Summer_Pond
Summary: Shiro is pretty sure it’s the 2 A.M. vibes and the fact that he’s bored shitless that influenced how his mind works.He reckons its definitely why his mouth decides to run off-course from getting a simple Maccas meal into something completely different.Because how else is he going to justify requesting an order of a ‘McGangBang’.Twice.





	i can take your body out like a drive thru

**Author's Note:**

> you really wanna get a dictionary for this. seriously

Shiro wiped the beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, smearing the body fluid across his forearm. His other hand was mechanically moving the straw-made fan, offering little reprieve from the humidity. It was better than staying stationary and feeling the stickiness of his cooling perspiration as he sweated out the water he had guzzled down hours ago.

 

Shiro chucked a cursory look to the locked door, where Lance had hidden himself in for the past six hours, only leaving for a piss-break or to refill his coffee mug which had run dangerously low during the third hour. Mumbling out curses with sprinkles of “Damn Iverson” and “literally the last thing I need to do and its ten pages of a stupid topic”, with spits of fury being alternated with drops of anxiousness oozing from Lance’s fiddling posture. Shiro had offered soothing rubs against Lance’s buzzing body, only to be gently pushed away as Lance pouted.

 

“It’s too bloody hot Babe, m’ppreciate it, but it’s dry as a nun’s nasty.”

 

So Shiro had backed down, patting Lance’s forearm as his boyfriend sank back into the horror room. Had plopped on the idiot box a few hours ago, but honestly, there was nothing worth watching at…Shiro looked at the clock…One A.M. Huh, guess Lance was still powering away while he lazily settled himself on their Unit’s couch.

 

He obviously felt bad for his partner, but honestly, Lance had it coming. ‘Time Management’ in clear words had been taped to their refrigerator on a post-it-note. Which Lance had seen every time the younger man had peered into the continuously emptying storage for a snack.  

 

Shiro felt himself droop into the leather, the heat and silence of the room blanketing over him and his eyes closed…just for a minute…

 

“Babeee. Wake up. Wake uppp.” A light swat on his cheek roused Shiro. Bleary-eyed Shiro shook off the offending warm hand, rubbing the sleep out with his organic hand. “Stop vegging out.”

 

“Are you done?” Shiro yawned back, stretching out his arms and hearing the popping of his tired bones. Shiro could feel the hungry gaze even with his eyes closed as he stretched, watching as Lance hummed back.

 

“Yup.” Lance pops his ‘P’ with tease in his voice. “I’m fuckin’ starving. There’s nothing in our fridge.” Lance rubbed his stomach, a growl emitting that gets Shiro snickering.

 

“Aren’t you a hungry little bugger?” Shiro pokes his boyfriend playfully on the hip.

 

“The hungriest bastard ever.” Lance scoffs out, returning his own prod to his amused boyfriend, coaxing a smile to be plastered on the older man’s face.

 

“What are we going to do about that?” Shiro hums, wrapping his arms around Lance’s sweaty form.

 

There’s a shit-eating grin that Lance bears, as the darker-skinned man wiggles in his boyfriend’s slippery hold. He opens his mouth, “MACCAS RUN!”

 

Shiro pulls back from the noise his boyfriend creates, winching. “Lance, bloody hell.”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Lance remarks, not sounding at all apologetic, “but nothing else is open this late at Two A.M.”

 

Shiro looks at the clock and realises that it is indeed that early in the morning. Sighing, he nods. “Alrighty, fine, Maccas run it is.”

 

“Fuck yeah.” Lance whoops, giddy with excitement, “Maccas run as a celebration for finishing my semester.”

 

“Thought you would want something nicer than that,” Shiro frowns, “Like something a bit fancier.”

 

“Is this your way saying you would buy me something better than goon?” Lance flutters his eyelashes, mouth in a coy curl.

 

Shiro groans. “Never again will I let you buy booze for us.”  

 

“Aw come on Babe.” Lance bemoans, “It was one time!”

 

“We got seriously pissed.” Shiro shakes his head. “ ‘don’t understand why I deal with you sometimes.”

 

“I’m a beaut obviously,” Lance slaps his ass in a playful gesture, “Now come on, Maccas awaits!”

 

“First,” Shiro tenderly flicks his finger across Lance’s forehead, “Shower. You stink.”

 

Lance pouts, lips pulled down as his eyes water, “Rude! But fine, whateva’, I’ll go wash.”

 

He makes his way towards the bathroom, and then stops before turning back. “Aren’t you goin’ to join me?” The enticing offer laid out as Lance removes his shirt, and grins to Shiro.

 

“ though’t you would never ask.” Shiro comments back, following his boyfriend to the bathroom, fingernails scrapping across warm flesh as he feels the smirk across Lance’s mouth.

 

_____

 

“You’re not seriously wearing that.” Shiro points out, keys in hand at Lance’s outfit.

 

“Nah Yeah, ‘course I am.” Lance breezily answers, tugging at his singlet with mock offence, “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”

 

Shiro takes a long hard look at his partner, taking in the cap thrown on Lance’s head, as tan fingers thread through the brown tufts poking out, the white singlet exposing collarbones and arms, chino shorts with long bronze legs poking through as throngs slapped on the pathway.

 

“Everything.” Is Shiro’s answer.

 

Lance creases his forehead. “It’s hot like a fuckin’ sauna Shiro. It’s practical couture.”

 

Shiro wants to remind Lance that he’s never actually been in a sauna before, and the fashion statement is a can of worms he doesn’t want to open. Ever.

 

The two of them fall into the Ute, Shiro at the wheel while Lance shotguns, knees raised from the seats, radio switched on as a pop remix blasts out from the rolled down windows. Lance’s hands are tapping away on the smooth streak of the door window, lyrics bellowed out in breathless yells. Shiro doesn’t have the energy to lecture his partner, so he watches Lance exert his childish excitement out in badly-pitched sing-songs from the corner of his eye.

 

“There’s a barbie happening next weekend at Allura’s,” Shiro absentmindedly breaks the singing routine, “we should go.”

 

Lance pauses in his song. “Nah yeah, we should. I’ll make some Pavs to bring to the party.”

 

Shiro nods, “I’ll buy a slab of Four X to bring as well.”

 

Lance grins, illuminated by the straying street lamps. “Ace!” He returns back to singing, until his grin falls a little. “You know what I’m not looking forward to? All the mozzies.” He scrunches his nose. Shiro thinks he looks adorable. “All the fuckin’ mozzies can fuck off.” Shiro still thinks he’s cute (if not at least could work on his vocabulary).

 

“You’re only saying this because you get bitten the most.” Shiro comments.

 

“Nah Yeah, bloody oath.” Lance huffs out with annoyance. “We need something to kill them all. What about adopting a Huntsman and having it sweep up all the roaches in our Unit. We can even give it a name or somethin’. What about George?”

 

“Sure.” Shiro laughs back. “Sure we can adopt a Huntsman and call it George.”

 

“I bet it’ll be a ripper party,” Lance mentions, “as long as there’s no story swapping about the losses from the pokies after a few beers.”

 

“Rubbish.” Shiro retorts, “that’s one of the best bits in a Rage.”

 

They eventually pull into the drive through to their nearest McDonalds, the yellow ‘M’ still lit even as the other shops have dimmed or closed their lights altogether. “Do we need any oil?” Lance asks as he spots the Servo and looks at the oil prices.

 

“Yeah Nah, we should be good for another few days, still got some clicks before this baby carks it.” Shiro answers, paying attention to his boyfriend who is chewing on his bottom lip. Shiro slows down, setting himself up to turn as he rounds the corner.

 

A car swerves in front suddenly and Shiro slams his brakes down while equally pressing his horn with surprise. “Watch it, you dingus!” Shiro clicks his tongue.

 

“Oi fella, you’re a wanker, you are!” Lance shouts out in annoyance. There’s a bird being flipped from the driver’s seat and Lance huffs in irritation. “I hope a Drop Bear falls on you when you’re in the Bush one day!”

 

“Two A.M. brings out the worst in people,” Shiro articulates, watching as the previous car takes their spot in the drive through. “What d’ya want?”

 

“Give me a Strawberry Sundae and I’m set.” Lance speaks, before closing his mouth and crinkling his eyes. “Wait, no maybe I should get something else.”

 

“Lance, you don’t know if the ice-cream machines have been properly cleaned,” Shiro says, “At least eat something more filling.”

 

“No fair.” Lance drawls out, pondering with his hand across his chin. “Please Shiro, if the Maccas machines can make me sick I’ll be impressed. But since its the morning, I want a Brekkie Roll.”

 

Shiro gives a look. “Lance, it’s not even close to brekkie yet.”

 

“Shush, big boy,” Lance waves off, “How hot is it now anyway?”

 

Shiro squints at the dashboard, “Thirty-Two degrees.”

 

Lance groans, “Right that’ll be. See, totally ice-cream weather. Come on Shiro, pleaseeee.” Lance clasps his hands together, and puts a show with widened eyes and a pouty lip.

 

“Lance.” Shiro sighs. He knows he shouldn’t indulge in his boyfriend’s bad habits, but Lance just has a way of wrapping Shiro around with a tight leash, and honestly he’s too buggered. “Fine. I’m too stuffed for this.”

 

“ _Sw-eet_! What about you?” Lance gushes, patting at Shiro’s exposed forearm.

 

“Probabl’ a meal or somethin’.” Shiro remarks, vaguely looking at the menu plastered in front of them. Finally, the car ahead seems to be done and drives, and Shiro gently lifts his foot off the brakes and lets their vehicle roll forward.

 

“What can I get you?” The crackle of the intercom frames the curt question, a man working behind the counter Shiro assumes from the low bored voice.

 

“Yeah, could I get a Strawberry Sundae, a Brekkie Roll with a McSpider please.” Shiro rattles off Lance’s order, receiving a thumbs up until Lance jerks forward and scrambles across Shiro’s side.

 

“Oh, hold the mayo thanks mate,” Lance converses to the intercom before he shuffles back and pulls out his phone.

 

The intercom crackles again, “Got it, Strawberry Sundae, Brekkie Roll with no mayo and a McSpider. Anything else?”

 

“Yeah mate,” Shiro starts to speak, “Could we get two Hash Browns, a regular Flat white and…” Shiro squints, watching as Lance distractedly laughs at his phone, probably seeing something funny, mouth parted with a layer of spit being spread across the dry lips, his tongue peeking out from amusement, eyes glossing over with the light of the mobile spraying a light blue against the darkness that pervades their surroundings.

 

“…could I get a McGangBang with extra mayo please.”

 

Shiro doesn’t think. Doesn’t even try and process the words that spills from his mouth. He doesn’t even recognise what he just ordered.

 

There’s a fierce coughing from the intercom as it splutters with noise. “C-could you repeat that Sir?”

 

“Two Hash Browns, a regular Flat White and a McGangBang with extra mayo.”

 

Lance perks his head up from his phone the first time, but its not until Shiro repeats the order does he react.

 

“Shiro…mate,” Lance starts, ”did you just order what I think you did?”

 

Shiro has a few seconds for the sudden realisation to sink in. “Uh, wait a minute…”

 

There’s a burst of laughter from the passenger’s seat, and Shiro can actually feel how Lance bounces in his seat, arms tucked across his chest as loud cackling comes from his boyfriend’s mouth.

 

“Y-You did! You absolute Lad!” Lance snickers in-between breaths, “Strewth!”

 

Shiro doesn’t even try to muffle his groan of frustration, and his first reaction is to allow his head fall downwards to hit the nearest surface. In this case it’s the steering wheel.

 

Which lets out a loud _Hoooonkkkkkk_ until Shiro’s rationality catches up and he removes the pressure off the wheel.

 

“Sorry about that mate,” Shiro profusely apologises to the poor person behind the speaker, “I-uh, didn’t mean to say that. This wouldn’t be how you would want to call it a day.”

 

There’s silence from the intercom. It crackles into existence as a voice flows through, “..It’s okay mate. I just wasn’t sure if you were taking the piss out of me.”

 

Lance crows, “Well I guess I now know where your mind is during the early mornin’s. Perv.” Lance smirks back.

 

“You’re a cunt.” Shiro whispers back, more exasperation than bite.

 

“Nah, you like my cunt-“ Lance begins before he realises they have an audience, “-tiness.” He ends his retort with a trailing silence.

 

‘Smooth’ Shiro mouths to this his boyfriend. ‘Shut up’ Lance returns with an unimpressed expression.

 

The intercom comes back to life. ”So you two muckin’ around?”

 

“Yeah Nah,” Lance jumps in, “The McGangBang is an actual thing. You can Google it. Swear on me mum.”

 

“…Sounds iffy. But fine, I’ll go and Google it.” The male voice has just the edge of intrigue in it. The intercom goes silent again and Shiro assumes the worker is actually humouring their request.

 

Uh, the actual burger of course.

 

“Good onya.” Lance excitedly replies.

 

Shiro covers his face, massaging his forehead, “I seriously need the coffee.”

 

“Shush, you’ll get your caffeine hit.” Lance speaks, much too casual for someone who witnessed his partner make a massive faux pas.

 

“So it’s good oil.” The worker’s voice comes back. ”It’s a McChicken and McDouble squashed together. What’s up with the stupid name?” The question is more hypothetical at this point but Lance of course has to rub it in.

 

“Wait, you’re telling me you would mind all that deliciousness being sandwiched between some buns?” Lance teases.

 

More silence. A throat is cleared buzzing in the intercom. “…We are still talking about food yeah?”

 

“Lance enough,” Shiro has to put his foot down eventually, and harassing the poor food worker in this early morning is not on the agenda (nor is propositioning said food worker but Lance rolls to his own tune). “We’re super sorry about taking up your time mate. I’m sure you’re a real good bloke.”

 

“No worries,” The intercom buzzes back, “Honestly, this has been the most exciting thing to happen in a long time for me.” That’s a confession Shiro isn’t expecting but it certainly tugs at some heartstrings. “That’ll be $21.50.” The voice answers. “If you drive through your order should be done soon enough.”

 

“Seriously, we’re sorry about it mate.” Shiro winches, “I know you don’t deserve this right in the mornin’.”

 

“We’re happy to make it up.” Lance injects, “How about letting us shout you something?”

 

Another pause. Shiro turns around to face Lance who is shrugging. ‘Stop’ Shiro mouths.

 

“..I finish in twenty minutes.” The intercom replies and Shiro’s jaw drops while Lance does a silent fist pump into the air.

 

Shiro blinks from his reverie and lets their Ute move forward, until they arrive next to the pick-up section. Shiro holds his breath, watching as the figure comes to the open window.

 

And what a view it is.

 

The uniforms aren’t flattering in the least, but somehow the man makes it work. There’s a slight sheet of sweat that layers across the man’s face but Shiro thinks it only makes gives the man a certain glow. Black hair tied back, violet eyes gazing at the car with intrigue and the passengers inside with scrutiny.

 

“So here’s your Strawberry Sundae, two Hash Browns, Brekkie Roll, McSpider, regular Flat White…and your McGangBang.” There’s a smirk, an actual sly look on the man, and Shiro nearly chokes on his spit.

 

“T-Thanks mate,” Shiro hands the money, watching as the man – _Keith_ –  when Shiro squints at the name tag, “Keith. How about we shout you something at the bottle-o?”

 

“Sounds good to me.” Keith says, “If you could wait in the parking that would be swell.” He takes the $50 note, holding it up into the light and checking the clear window of the cash before deeming it legitimate and grabbing the change. “Here you go. Have a good brekkie.”

 

Shiro peels into one of the empty parking spots, reversing and making sure the boot doesn’t hit the fence (which is harder than you expect when you’re flustered) and turns off the engine.

 

Lance is already stuffed in his Sundae, scooping up one pink and white gloop looking at Shiro. “Say ahhh..” Lance says and holds the cold treat to his partner.

 

Shiro accepts the offer, and as he swallows the milky liquid he thinks it tastes sweeter than ever. “Think we’re get a real fair go?”

 

Lance beams back, Sundae smeared along his lips, “Too right!”

**Author's Note:**

> it's hard to have a golden gaytime on your own


End file.
